


Freezing

by lostwithoutmyanchor (mysourwolf)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Creature Stiles, M/M, ignores Peter in Eichen House plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:13:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8920267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysourwolf/pseuds/lostwithoutmyanchor
Summary: In which Stiles accidentally hurts himself and Peter helps.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luflice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luflice/gifts).



> This is my secret santa gift for the lovely [ Luflice](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Luflice/pseuds/Luflice)
> 
> Also many thanks for helping me out big time (betaing and even supplying some epic lines) to [ NinaRooxx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NinaRooxx/works)  
> 

These days Stiles was pretty tuned in to the Nemeton and also probably not so surprisingly to the Beacon Hills lay lines. So when someone started to tamper with them shortly before sunrise, Stiles felt it clearly and woke with a gasp. After owlishly blinking around for a second he shot up and grabbed his phone sending a quick mass text. Then he tumbled out of bed and hastily put on some jeans and a hoodie over the shirt and boxer shorts he slept in. Without regard to possibly sleeping fathers in the house he ran down the stairs and shoved his feet into his shoes next to the door.

“Stiles,” said a voice from next to him, making him jump and letting out a short scream.

“Dad! Oh, my god. Do you want me to have a heart attack?” Stiles held his right hand to his heart and panted.  
The sheriff however didn’t have the time or patience for his son’s antics and replied shortly, “I just got a missing person report.”

Stiles closed his eyes for a second before he took a deep breath. “Who is it?”  
“Your friend Danielle. You remember her? You used to play with her at Heather’s.”

“Yeah. Yes. Shit,” Stiles mumbled and raked a hand through his hair. “Dad, I think she might be in the woods but whoever has her… they’re definitely not, you know, entirely human.”

Stiles’ father pressed his lips together and nodded. “I assume you and the pack will have a look at the woods. I’ll take some guys and scan the surrounding area. Let me know if you need backup or find something.”

There was a wave of gratitude washing over Stiles at his dad’s obvious trust in him but he didn’t have time to think about it for long. Instead he reached out and hugged him, quick but tightly.  
“Will do,” he said and with that he was out of the door.

 

When Stiles arrived at the entrance to the preserve the others were already waiting and Stiles filled them in on the news of the missing girl.  
“I have a feeling this is definitely supernatural,” he concluded.

Peter raised an eyebrow and snorted, mocking, “A feeling.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and didn’t even spare him a glare but started to walk into the woods towards where he thought the disturbance might have come from. Knowing he somehow maybe might have been able to save Heather back then still rankled him, and he would be damned if he let another person get killed this way.

Despite his sarcastic comment Peter was following Stiles closely while scanning the woods with his heightened senses. So far he couldn’t really make out anything but also wasn’t able to shake the ominous feeling in his guts. Besides him the others moved along with their typical level of sound that could be heard from many miles away.

Stiles was drawn to the spot very distinctively and soon they came into a small clearing. Lit brightly by the almost full moon the missing girl was bound tightly to a tree, shouts muffled by tape. She was struggling fiercely, glaring at Stiles as he quickly approached. Trusting the others to have his back, he reached out and quickly tore off the tape.

“Motherf-”, Danielle screamed at him. “Get me out of this, Stilinski.”  
Stiles reared back from the volume of her voice and mumbled, “Jeez.” Then he looked around and met Peter’s amused gaze. “Uh, can you?” he asked and gestured to the ropes. 

“For you anytime,” Peter replied smoothly and shredded the ropes, careful to not nick any skin. He figured he wouldn’t hear the end of it from both the girl and Stiles.

“No! Stop!” someone shouted and they all turned towards the source, a short, young man.

Stiles frowned and took a step towards the guy. “Who the hell are you?”

Behind him Scott instructed Lydia to take Danielle back to the cars and then stepped up between Stiles and Peter.

The guy held his chin up and announced, “I’m Merlin. A descendant of the great mage Merlin himself and I’m here to take the Nemeton’s power.”

Scott blinked, Peter snorted and Stiles huffed, “Seriously? Is this guy for real?”

The mage sneered and waved his arms around. A second later there was a small explosion, raining ashes down on Scott. He sneezed and Stiles couldn’t help laughing. “Come on, dude. Really? Did you mean to do that?”  
Another arm wave was setting fire to a piece of shrub next to Scott who yelped and jumped away. Peter, not very impressed by the flames, growled and shifted, ready to attack but Stiles just laughed again. “Dude, you are so bad at this.”

With a frustrated scream the man charged for Stiles, tackling him to the ground. Seconds later it was a mess of bodies when everyone else jumped on top of them. They were rolling around, everybody trying to grab the mage but it was Peter who eventually managed. He had his hand wrapped around the guy’s throat, claws scraping the skin, growling in his face, eyes glowing a bright blue. 

“Peter, no. Don’t kill him!” Scott shouted, ready to jump in but then he saw Stiles reaching out, putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

“Come on, dude. No maiming and killing, yeah? My dad is on stand-by.” 

Peter let out a grunt and it took him several moments to retreat his claws and stand up, hand still around the man’s throat.

“I’ll handle it,” Scott said hurriedly and took the mage’s wrists in one hand, steering him to where he heard the sheriff coming towards them.

The mage - Merlin or whatever - looked back at them with a glare and suddenly Peter heard a shriek from behind. He turned around and his eyes widened. Stiles was waving his arms around hysterically while flames climbed from his feet upwards, already reaching to his thighs.

Peter hesitated for a second, trapped by shock from the sight of fire so close to him. But then he tried to get a grip, shoving the shock and wave of horror somewhere deep inside of him. He figured if he would roll Stiles around on the damp forest floor the flames could be killed quite effectively. So he dropped to his knees ready to reach out for Stiles and into the flames when he felt the temperature around them drop abruptly. Another second later Stiles’ legs were covered in thin ice.

“What - how did you do that?” Peter asked and touched the ice.

Stiles grimaced and shrugged. “Abominable snowman?” he said, trying to sound casual. Then he reached down and tried to get the ice off himself. Alarmed by the blue-ish tinge in Stiles’ fingers Peter helped him frantically. With the layer of ice the fabric of Stiles’ pants came off as well revealing a pair of pale legs partially blazing red from the ice. 

“Ow, hey!” Stiles hissed when Peter’s hands closed gently around a red patch to warm up the skin. Stiles moaned and felt his knees buckle. He thought he would fall back on his ass but Peter caught him and with some flailing on Stiles’ side got him to sit down more or less undamaged. 

Peter went back to Stiles’ legs, rubbing some life back into them and sharing his heightened body heat before he stated, “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey! At least I’m not a burning idiot.” Stiles huffed.

“Granted but now you’re a frostbitten idiot. The other end of the spectrum isn’t any better.”

“It’s not even a frostbite. Maybe just a frostnip. And it wouldn’t even damage my skin anyway, I’m just a bit cold.”

“Cold? Stiles, your skin feels frozen.”

“It does not! That’s just because you’re an unfairly hot werewolf.”

Peter smirked slightly and raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m hot?”

“Wha- no! I mean your body temperature is unfairly hot because you’re a stupid hot werewolf. I mean warm - I mean -” 

“Stiles?” A voice came from right next to the squawking boy.

Stiles jerked and stared upwards. “Dad? What are you doing here? Oh, um this is not what it looks like.”

The sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. “I don’t even care anymore, Stiles. Will you be okay?”

Stiles looked down on his legs that had mostly returned to their usual colour and then to Peter who kept his gaze on his own hands which were now working on Stiles’ calves.  
With a sigh Stiles leaned back on his elbows and nodded. “Yeah, dad, I’ll be fine.”

His father nodded and gestured to deputy Parrish who seemed to have cuffed the wannabe-mage while Stiles wasn’t looking. “We’ll get him to Deaton who apparently can strip his magic. And then to the station. Got a cell with his name on it.”  
“Okay, dad,” Stiles said and gave him a little wave. Then his eyes fell on Scott who stared at Peter with an unreadable expression. 

“Uh, I thought I’d go with them in case the guy tries anything?” Scott asked uncertainly.

Stiles shrugged. “Sure. Peter can drive me home. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I’m not your chauffeur. Or your babysitter,” Peter mumbled absently, taking Stiles’ shoes off to check on his feet.

Stiles and Scott looked at each other and simultaneously rolled their eyes before Scott turned to jog after the sheriff.

His eyes still on Scott’s back Stiles suddenly flinched and jerked his foot out of Peter’s hands. 

“Hey, I’m ticklish.”

“You should be thankful that you still have the nerves to be ticklish.”

“Oh, are we starting again? Look at my skin! It’s perfectly fine.”

Stiles huffed and started to rub at a patch on his thigh that was still a little bit too red and too cold. 

With a snort Peter sat Stiles’ foot down and shuffled closer. He put his hands on Stiles’ thigh and let the warmth spread, making small rubbing motions with his thumbs. 

Stiles blinked and cleared his throat looking somewhere over Peter’s hair line while he tried to keep his composure. His legs were nicely warm by now and he felt the blood running through them again, making his skin tingle slightly. After a few moments Peter’s hands moved a little, finding another sore spot. Stiles’ involuntarily closed his eyes and let out a moan. 

“Good?” Peter asked, his voice sounding a bit hoarse.

Stiles kept his eyes closed and hummed lightly, spreading his thighs a little. “Awesome,” he mumbled.

With a satisfied nod Peter kept working while he watched Stiles’ face intently. There were a few more quiet moans and little gasps, Stiles’ legs sometimes twitching under his hands.

When he was finally satisfied he sat back and pulled Stiles into his lap who gasped in surprise but soon settled his arms around the werewolf. 

“I thought we were arguing,” Stiles mumbled and happily pressed his face into Peter’s neck.

“Later,” Peter said and kept holding him tightly.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure about the rating but I figured better safe than sorry.
> 
> [ I'm also on tumblr](http://lostwithoutmyanchor.tumblr.com/)


End file.
